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Ella’s eyes widen, and she looks over at me. She’s been to his plane, and she didn’t make it sound too pleasant.
“I can see how someone could go crazy in there,” she says under her breath.
“Alton ran the second the rings broke up. No one knows where he is right now. Except for me. If Slade finds out I can track him, he’ll decide he doesn’t want me dead so bad. He’ll want me to track his brother down so he can get his revenge.”
Ella leans back against Chaz, her eyes proving she feels sympathy for someone. I have a feeling it’s Slade. She’s fucking crazy.
“So you’ve had his blood?” I ask her, confused. “When?”
I
thought they blood starved her.
She turns and looks at me, guilt etched in her eyes for some reason. “Yes. I’ve had a taste of almost everyone’s blood. Including Karma’s, even though I’ve never met her before. They wanted me to be their search dog. If someone escaped, I was supposed to go collect them. At least that was their plans for me. All I need is a taste, and I can track them for years.”
“Thank God you never did that,” Dice says, his eyes narrowing. “Karma barely escaped with her life.”
Roslyn nods, not looking up.
“So are we killing Slade or not?” Dice asks flippantly, shifting the subject.
“Not,” Ella says emphatically, shaking her head. “We might need him if this big bad is really big and bad. Think about it; he or she were able to catch the Gemini twins before the link was severed and keep them for centuries. Obviously they’re powerful, and even if Slade hates us, he’ll still want revenge on whoever it is that hurt him.”
“He also wants my girl dead,” I remind her. “If it’s him or her, he’s got to die, Ell. That’s just how it is.”
“I agree with that,” Zee chimes in. “And we also need to know who we’re dealing with. Anything you can give us?”
He stares expectantly at Roslyn.
“I don’t know who’s running the show. There was a guy everyone always assumed was in charge. His name was Gavin, but he was just a puppet. They gave me his blood, too, which means he wasn’t there of his own free will.”
Everyone looks to Gage, who groans and drops his head back while putting his arm over his eyes.
“What?” Roslyn asks innocently.
“What else can you give us?” Chaz asks her, ignoring her question for the sake of Gage’s sanity.
“The blood-starved night stalkers have to be put down. They’re like a disease that festers and builds. They’ll wipe out the population in no time. Every person they change turns into the same monster they are.”
“Motherfucker,” Chaz says, getting up from his seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling Drackus on this one. We’ll need his help and Dray’s too. They can hunt for them while we hunt for this… other person.”
“It’s a woman,” Dice announces. “It’s always a crazy bitch who wants to end the world with such dramatic flair. A guy just blows shit up and drops bodies until he’s killed. Only women are this cunning.”
Ella flips him off, and Roslyn glares at him. The incubus doesn’t give a damn.
“The blood-starved night stalkers will feed on anything—mortal or immortal. The blood isn’t nourishing; it just sustains them. And the hunger never goes away. The only thing they live to do is hunt and grow their numbers so they can hunt more. They have no fear. They don’t care if you’re stronger or not. They can’t understand strength, only hunger,” Roslyn continues.
“How did you find all this out?” Ella asks. “They said you were starved and locked away for two years in solitude.”
Zee elbows her, and her eyes grow wide when she realizes just how callous that sounded.
“It’s fine,” Roslyn says just as Ella starts to apologize. “I was locked up. Which is why I listened to every sound and every conversation there was whenever they dragged me out for the… cruel times. When you’re starved for contact, you soak in everything, even when they don’t realize you’re paying attention.”
That has me pulling her until she’s forced to turn and lean against me from the side. Her forehead touches my neck, and I run my fingers up and down her arm, hoping I’m doing all I can to keep her from going back to her broken mind.
“I think that’s enough talk for tonight. We already have a lot more info than what we did,” I tell the group.
“No,” Roslyn says, leaning back up. “There’s more. Whoever is running the show, they’re after something. I only caught glimpses of men in cloaks, but they were always covered in dirt, as though they spent most of their days digging. One day, I heard them mention Pine Shore. I guess it was buried somewhere in my subconscious while I was spelled, which is probably how I ended up here.
